Murphy: To 'see great and terrible things' -- Why doctors write

An accomplished neurosurgeon on the faculty of the University of Virginia at Charlottesville, Dr. Alexander was the author of more than 150 book chapters and medical papers. He previously served for 15 years on the faculty of the Harvard University School of Medicine at Brigham and Women’s Hospital.

But on the morning of Nov. 10, 2008, Dr. Alexander’s life changed — forever.

He had gone to bed the night before with a dull ache in his back. When he awoke before dawn that morning, Dr. Alexander had a severe pain in his spine — a pain that became more severe by the minute.

His symptoms progressed rapidly. Within hours, he was delirious, and was rushed to the local ER. There, he was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis — a potentially lethal condition. Dr. Alexander spent a week in a coma on a ventilator. He was not expected to survive. However, on the seventh day, he began to awaken. When Dr. Alexander regained consciousness, he had memories of a journey deep into another reality — a place “more real than this earthly one.”

He has now been blessed with a complete recovery. Dr. Alexander’s perspectives on life and the afterlife were completely transformed by his near-death experience. As an expert on the brain, his insights on his experiences are unique — and he has shared his life-changing story in his book, “Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife,” which debuted at No. 1 on the New York Times Bestseller list.

Dr. Alexander has dedicated himself to promoting further research on the unifying elements of science and spirituality, encouraging people to be inspired by the power of unconditional love in their daily lives.

Dr. Alexander will be delivering the closing address at the Savannah Book Festival this weekend. His lecture, at 3 p.m. on Sunday, Feb. 16, will focus on how his experiences have changed his life.

And he is not the only physician-writer on the Book Festival docket. Dr. Robin Cook, author of “Coma” and over 30 other best-selling novels, will be speaking Saturday. So both fiction and nonfiction physician authors will have representation.

As a physician-writer myself, I have often been asked one every simple question: Why do so many doctors write?

The list of physician authors is long and impressive. Some of the names are unexpected: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and John Keats, for example, or Anton Chekhov. Moreover, in addition to Drs. Alexander and Cook, there are other more contemporary well-known physician authors like William Carlos Williams, W. Somerset Maugham, Michael Crichton, Michael Palmer, Oliver Sacks, Tess Gerritson, Khaled Hosseini and Abraham Verghese.

But, again, why?

When a writer puts pen to paper, he is tapping into his own experience in attempt to transmit that experience to others. Stephen King once said that good writing is like telepathy, in that the writer is trying to place his thoughts and observations inside another person’s head. The practice of medicine allows us to see people at the extremes of their lives. Our work days are filled with life and death, with things both wonderful and tragic.

Ethan Canin, a doctor who stopped practicing medicine after the publication of his third novel, likens being a physician to being a soldier, saying that physicians “see great and terrible things.” So doctors have lots of vivid, jarring experiences to transmit telepathically.

Doctors also pay attention to detail. It’s our job. I notice things about people that most folks would overlook — the scar on a man’s chest that tells me he’s had a thoracotomy, for example.

Good physicians also learn early on to pick up on nonverbal cues — the way people cast their eyes away from you when they are being untruthful, for example. Moreover, despite being “detail-oriented,” we also have to look at the proverbial big picture — sorting through various pieces of data to see the threads of the story lurking someplace underneath. That skill has helped me as a writer, keeping me focused on what is truly relevant.

Paradoxically, being a writer has made me a better doctor. I’ve become more empathetic, more capable of slipping into someone else’s skin. It’s not that hard when you’re slipping into and out of fictional characters all the time. In the end, there’s a true symbiosis here; one set of talents reinforces the other.

Whether a physician writes nonfiction, like Dr. Alexander, or fiction, like Dr. Cook, the medical profession gives each of us a unique insight into the nature of the human condition. It affords the physician-writer a perspective on the value of our lives that might not be evident to a person without a medical background. And ultimately, like Dr. Alexander, I’ve come to the conclusion that life is, indeed, a miracle — something holy and sacred.

The combination of medicine and writing has developed in me a greater appreciation for life as a textured experience — exhilarating, terrifying, more than a little bit mysterious, but innately wonderful.

The Seventh Annual Savannah Book Festival, to be held from February 13-16, features over 40 writers. Most of the events are free to the public. It’s one of the best celebrations of literary talent in the country — and it’s right here in Savannah.

I’ll be there this weekend. You should be, too.

Mark Murphy, M.D., is a Savannah physician and writer. For more festival information, go to savannahbookfestival.org.